I had planned to write this post about the snow when it was actually snowing, but that would have been doing something semi-productive, and who wants to be any kind of productive on a snow day? So I'm writing now, long after the snow has melted and we're back to usual (and tolerable) weather.
My mom always had this rule that we couldn't play in the snow if it was still snowing. As a parent, I totally get it now: She was putting off the inevitable-but-not-so-fun task of helping us find snow clothes, get into the clothes, and then go outside in the cold, wet mess with us.
When it started snowing on Tuesday afternoon, I was prepared to enforce this rule with Aniston, but I didn't have to. Turns out, my kid is, well, mine and had zero interest in going out in the cold. Later that evening she asked if it was still cold outside. When I told her it was, she said, "Well. I don't like that," with her hands on her little hips. I'm sure she thought the weather would change just because she didn't like it. Haha! We spent the afternoon and evening indoors watching Princess Sofia and eating powdered donuts.
Our stay-inside plans were thwarted by the great grandparents on Wednesday, though. (For the record, I
probably would have taken her out by myself at some point, but B wasn't here--he had to work--and my motivation was pretty low.) Papaw started calling pretty early to see if she had been out to play yet, and then finally took matters into his own hands and just showed up on the front porch with a sled around 11. After watching him run (and I'm talking actual running) around pulling Aniston on the sled, I decided I can only hope to be half that energetic in my seventies.
The snow was fun, but I can't say I was sad when it melted. Hurry up, spring!